Character Roster
Marlowe Vallis -@DruSM157
Marina Sorellia Watercrest -@Inkarnate
Solia -@McMolly
Terhikki Vepsäläinen -@Fading Memory
Marea -@May96
Eliza Rebargo -@AGenericUser
Evander -@SunsetWanderer
1 Guest
viewing this page
[CHAR] In Search of Gaea: A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure
- Post-Apocalyptic
- Fantasy
- Casual
- Advanced
- Steampunk
- Small Group
- Sci-Fi
- GM DruSM157
Join Status:
Full
GM
Marlowe Vallis -@DruSM157
Marina Sorellia Watercrest -@Inkarnate
Solia -@McMolly
Terhikki Vepsäläinen -@Fading Memory
Marea -@May96
Eliza Rebargo -@AGenericUser
Evander -@SunsetWanderer
GM
M a r l o w e
“I just want to know what’s beyond that horizon.”
Name
Marlowe Vallis
Age
19
Gender
Male
Home Sea
The Southern Sea
Aether Sign
None
Aether Abilities
None
Personality
Marlowe toes the line between naïve and ignorant many times due to his entire life being spent on the small Windward Island. That naivete tends to get him into more trouble than not, as that small-mindedness is buffeted by a brash and headstrong attitude. Marlowe has garnered a name in the Windward Island community as a bit of a dunderhead and is constantly in trouble with Chief Talu due to his adventurous spirit.
Beyond his more obviously childish qualities, Marlowe is a kindhearted individual. He’s apt to stop and see why a child is crying and then dash headlong into danger to help, beyond considering the danger. He also suffers from an extreme wanderlust, dreaming of what lies beyond the Southern Seas and dreams of seeing the world. That kind heart is only one side of the coin however. Marlowe does have a brash temper, only spurred on by his impulsive attitude. Speaking ill of his mother, his father or the Chief has sent him into a blind rage before, leading to of course, more problems.
While Marlowe does seem to have strings of bad luck following him, he does keep an upbeat attitude and a positive outlook on the future, even in dangerous situations.
History
It is said that those children born under the dead light of an eclipse will be doomed to a cursed life, for they exist outside of the natural order of the sun and moon...
Marlowe was one of the few born without an Aether sign, due to his birth during an Eclipse. According to legend, his body is unable to use aether at all. This also branded him an unlucky child only made worse by the constant onset of tragedies that befell him at a young age. Marlowe’s father was a Diver from the far seas, settling down in Windward island and marrying his mother. Growing up, Marlowe occasionally saw his father between jobs for the Diver’s guild, until his eighth birthday where a member of his father’s team returned with his father’s sword: the only memento of a fallen diver.
Shortly after his father’s death, Marlowe’s own mother fell ill and died, leaving Marlowe an orphan, passed around different families of the island until it was decreed that he was the Chief’s problem much to Talu Wayfinder’s chagrin. Marlowe has since grown up as the chief’s aide, helper, and constant annoyance. This isn't to say that Talu hates Marlowe, but rather wishes the boy could become more mature and take his place as a true man of the island instead of a childish man with dreams of grandeur. Whilst Divers who don't use aether are not unheard of, there have never been any famous Divers who bear the birth of a cursed eclipse.
Having heard stories of his father’s adventures from other sailors around the island and constantly shirking his duties to practice with the blade, Marlowe’s dreams are simply to escape the small confines of Windward Island and see the world beyond the Southern Sea’s relative safety. Marlowe's main "crew" are the younger children of the island, who find it fun to watch Marlowe practice and attempt to learn how to use his blade.
His relationship with Marea is a strange one as well. Having become used to his life in isolation as a single child and orphan, upon her arrival he found himself now with a new "family" member. Of course, her calm attitude and helpful skills have endeared her to Chief Talu, whilst Marlowe's own foolish antics continue to infuriate the Chief.
Gear
Fisherman’s Blade: An odd blade, roughly three feet long with a hooked tip, almost like a harpoon. The blade slices through the water as easily as air and was his father’s trusty blade on many voyages. Strangely, Marlowe has never seen any other Divers or fishermen use such a weapon. The tip itself seems to be impractical as it would apparently "hook" into the hide of a beast it was stabbed into.
Shell Necklace: A memento of his mother’s, it’s said to give good luck. It doesn’t seem to work for Marlowe.
Other Notes
-Marlowe is an excellent swimmer even for the island’s standards. He possesses great skill and has spent time training in underwater fighting. Though he lacks a rebreather than all Diver’s have, he can stay underwater for nearly six minutes with little issue.
-Marlowe is semi-literate, able to read the common language but can barely write.
-Marlowe has an almost perfect mental image of the surrounding island seas in the Southern Sea.
+++
GM's note: It's still a bit WIP, but here's how a basic profile should look.
mickilennial The Elder Fae
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
“You should be absolutely delighted that you are in the presence of a living legend.”
Marina Sorellia Watercrest
with assorted titles attached
with assorted titles attached
Twenty-Four
Female
The Imperial Sea
Moon
Marina’s aether abilities are enhanced by the moon sign she was born under and as such is limited to the manipulation of the element of water.
Marina learned to tap into her aether abilities when she was but a small child, though she was no prodigal genius. Everything she has achieved has been done with a large quantity of hard work and a small degree of talent. This hard work was supplemented by Marina’s attendance as a student of the Imperial Fleet Academy based in proximity to the imperial capital. Though despite having a well-trained connection to her aether sign, Marina still tends to struggle regarding her focus and nerve. But the moon has blessed the purple-haired young adult nonetheless, enhancing Marina’s abilities as a diver and combatant; she envies those who are talented artificers and aether engineers given that she lacks the patience for such things.
Marina as an aether user can be aptly described as a utility specialist, which in short means that most of Marina’s combat prowess is done practically rather than magically. Aether exists to enhance Marina’s skills as a diver and adventurer, though in a clutch situation she can be pushed to using her more esoteric abilities that are better suited to combat. Some common aspects and techniques she is prone to utilizing include the following:
- Fysallidakinesis: Marina tends to use Fysallidakinesis in combination with her hydrokinetic barriers. It’s good to be able to breathe underwater – especially if your diving gear isn’t with you or is compromised.
- Hydrokinetic Barriers: Marina’s primary focus when it comes to her aether abilities is the creation of a “hard” water fields that can be used as shields, deep dive barriers, and containment fields.
- Pressure Manipulation: Manipulating the water pressure around her can aid Marina when she is surrounded by pirates, raiders, or other sorts of antagonists. Requires focus and can exhaust Marina quickly if she’s not careful.
- Purification: In certain situations Marina can focus on purifying any form of liquid she comes into contact with. She’s had to use this in certain parts of the ocean where ancient corruption magic has tainted the water to the point it is too dangerous to swim in.
- Regenerative Water: The most difficult aether technique that Marina knows and probably the most valuable when things look the most dark. Similar to her purification techniques, but allowing to apply a transformative water to another person to reinforce their immune system and healing faculties.
The heir of a family legacy spanning several generations and two bloodlines, it bears little surprise that Marina has a good amount of baggage.
Marina is a tough woman with ambitions greater than the strongest tides. Her father, a recognized “pirate hunter” and fleet admiral for the imperial demesne, has been Marina’s sole parental figure in her life following her mother’s wayward disappearance when she was six years old. But even with all of the education, expectations, and demands the purple-haired girl faced there was always a sense of abandonment and mystique that Marina found difficult to digest. Especially considering the fact that her mother’s deeds were things she realized were never going to fade – she would never stop hearing how she reminded people of her mother. Her father and her teachers would soon find that Marina did not appreciate the sentiment by any means. But no matter how Marina acted out or tried to stand above others she couldn’t shake the comparisons. Some people have suggested that such brash impulses only strengthened the comparisons to the famed adventurer of the seven seas.
The traits that made people call Marina the “second coming” of Marisabel Everdeep were things that Marina could never temper. The sarcastic and almost flirtatious wit, the acting before thinking, the sense of adventure, and the quickness of rage would define Marina, though she undeniably had her father’s sense of pompousness, tenacity, and perceptive ability just the same. Though Marina still to this day desires to be different and to be known as Marina Watercrest and not the Admiral’s Daughter or the spawn of Marisabel Everdeep. She wants very strongly for people to think of her for her own deeds and merits. She wants it so much she detests hearing her mother and father’s names. Especially considering her father is notoriously distant and her mother essentially abandoned her.
Marina is a tough woman with ambitions greater than the strongest tides. Her father, a recognized “pirate hunter” and fleet admiral for the imperial demesne, has been Marina’s sole parental figure in her life following her mother’s wayward disappearance when she was six years old. But even with all of the education, expectations, and demands the purple-haired girl faced there was always a sense of abandonment and mystique that Marina found difficult to digest. Especially considering the fact that her mother’s deeds were things she realized were never going to fade – she would never stop hearing how she reminded people of her mother. Her father and her teachers would soon find that Marina did not appreciate the sentiment by any means. But no matter how Marina acted out or tried to stand above others she couldn’t shake the comparisons. Some people have suggested that such brash impulses only strengthened the comparisons to the famed adventurer of the seven seas.
The traits that made people call Marina the “second coming” of Marisabel Everdeep were things that Marina could never temper. The sarcastic and almost flirtatious wit, the acting before thinking, the sense of adventure, and the quickness of rage would define Marina, though she undeniably had her father’s sense of pompousness, tenacity, and perceptive ability just the same. Though Marina still to this day desires to be different and to be known as Marina Watercrest and not the Admiral’s Daughter or the spawn of Marisabel Everdeep. She wants very strongly for people to think of her for her own deeds and merits. She wants it so much she detests hearing her mother and father’s names. Especially considering her father is notoriously distant and her mother essentially abandoned her.
Marina Watercrest was born twenty-four years ago on a cold abhorrent winter night in a royal infirmary on the island of Galma in the Imperial Sea.
Marina’s parents were an unlikely pair, but circumstances had brought them together for a time and Marina’s birth had cemented things where they had been uncertain only months prior. But such happiness was temporary, as such Marina would learn some years later. That aside, Marina had the typical childhood of a girl born into wealth and prestige. Marina’s parents were not forgettable in terms of the grand scheme of things. Marina was a child who was subject to inherit legacies from both sides and she knew it pretty much from the moment she could comprehend thought. After all, her father was not only a member of the emperor’s inner circle but also a powerful fleet admiral who was in control of the entire northern naval forces. Her mother’s legacy wasn’t as immediately recognizable, but the stories of the most famous adventurers that the Southern Sea ever produced was something of an inspiration for Marina when she was very young. Who needed tall tales of heroes she had never met or seen when her mother was standing right in front of her?
Though such idolization changed when on the eighth anniversary of Marina’s birth her mother vanished from her life with little explanation beyond a Southern Sea ornament that was left on Marina’s bed. It would be a birthday that Marina would never forget.
For the rest of her childhood, Marina’s father took the reins of her guardianship completely and utterly. Marina began being forcefully taught how to be the ideal soldier from everything down from posture to physicality. Her education in aether became more rigid and constant, her instruction in etiquette and knowledge became meticulous. Admiral Adonius Terrec IV Watercrest had no room for error. Some children would’ve seen such expectations and attention overwhelming, but Marina rose to the challenge. She didn’t want to lose the only parent she had left. Such determination would continue until she was accepted into the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets (IFAFC) at the age of twelve.
Upon leaving imperial fleet academy, Marina has thought hard about what she wants to do with her life. Initially her immediate family championed for her to join the imperial naval right out of the academy, but for reasons only known to Marina, she opted to explore the world on her own terms instead which has resulted in a more fufilling career path despite Marina still finding herself unsatisified by all definitions of the word.
Her first escapades started as an independent diver and adventurer, sailing in the Imperial Sea away from the trappings of imperial mandates and expectations. She found something comforting about being the designer of her own destiny – about not being stuck on an imperial cruiser doing menial tasks and grunt work. And for one of the first times in her life people didn’t care who her parents were and what they did. Marina was Marina, not Marina Watercrest or Marina Everdeep. Being a member of a diver’s guild was freeing and without trappings of what legacy she was part of. For a time the only legacy that mattered was her own and there was nobody who could take that away from her. Or at least that was what she thought before her group was stricken with a great calamity that led Marina to leave the Imperial Sea.
It has been one year since Marina resigned from the Imperial Sea's divers guild and has since relocated to another sea. She hopes for a new start as she still continues to search for answers and perhaps other things.
Marina’s parents were an unlikely pair, but circumstances had brought them together for a time and Marina’s birth had cemented things where they had been uncertain only months prior. But such happiness was temporary, as such Marina would learn some years later. That aside, Marina had the typical childhood of a girl born into wealth and prestige. Marina’s parents were not forgettable in terms of the grand scheme of things. Marina was a child who was subject to inherit legacies from both sides and she knew it pretty much from the moment she could comprehend thought. After all, her father was not only a member of the emperor’s inner circle but also a powerful fleet admiral who was in control of the entire northern naval forces. Her mother’s legacy wasn’t as immediately recognizable, but the stories of the most famous adventurers that the Southern Sea ever produced was something of an inspiration for Marina when she was very young. Who needed tall tales of heroes she had never met or seen when her mother was standing right in front of her?
Though such idolization changed when on the eighth anniversary of Marina’s birth her mother vanished from her life with little explanation beyond a Southern Sea ornament that was left on Marina’s bed. It would be a birthday that Marina would never forget.
For the rest of her childhood, Marina’s father took the reins of her guardianship completely and utterly. Marina began being forcefully taught how to be the ideal soldier from everything down from posture to physicality. Her education in aether became more rigid and constant, her instruction in etiquette and knowledge became meticulous. Admiral Adonius Terrec IV Watercrest had no room for error. Some children would’ve seen such expectations and attention overwhelming, but Marina rose to the challenge. She didn’t want to lose the only parent she had left. Such determination would continue until she was accepted into the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets (IFAFC) at the age of twelve.
Upon leaving imperial fleet academy, Marina has thought hard about what she wants to do with her life. Initially her immediate family championed for her to join the imperial naval right out of the academy, but for reasons only known to Marina, she opted to explore the world on her own terms instead which has resulted in a more fufilling career path despite Marina still finding herself unsatisified by all definitions of the word.
Her first escapades started as an independent diver and adventurer, sailing in the Imperial Sea away from the trappings of imperial mandates and expectations. She found something comforting about being the designer of her own destiny – about not being stuck on an imperial cruiser doing menial tasks and grunt work. And for one of the first times in her life people didn’t care who her parents were and what they did. Marina was Marina, not Marina Watercrest or Marina Everdeep. Being a member of a diver’s guild was freeing and without trappings of what legacy she was part of. For a time the only legacy that mattered was her own and there was nobody who could take that away from her. Or at least that was what she thought before her group was stricken with a great calamity that led Marina to leave the Imperial Sea.
It has been one year since Marina resigned from the Imperial Sea's divers guild and has since relocated to another sea. She hopes for a new start as she still continues to search for answers and perhaps other things.
Marina Watercrest is an experienced diver, adventurer, and sailor. She’s been formally trained in swordplay since she was nine years old, learned marksmanship at an imperial academy in her teenaged years, and has been a wayward adventurer representing the imperial sea for almost a decade now. Her incredible conditioning in academics and military artforms aside, Makina is not an able engineer or scientist. She’s primarily a woman of action who is ready to go into battle with an aetherblade (in the imperial style) in one hand and a diver’s pistol in another. She holds a utility belt alongside her collapsible diving suit and generally prepared for a fight.
Mcmolly D-List Cryptid
Member
Seen
5 hrs ago
S o l i a
Name
Solia, Maelstrom’s Elegy
Age
30 (static appearance in mid-twenties)
Gender
Female
Home Sea
The Ancient Sea
Aether Sign
Sun
Aether Abilities
A form of Aether-magic associated with the manipulation of wind and air, Aether Wings are a staple of Maelstrom Spire’s angels. The wings themselves are more symbolic than physical. Though there is a vaguely wing-shaped distortion about their shoulders when they utilize this magic, they are fairly static, or at least do not mimic the movement of natural wings when they are visible.
Simply put, this magic allows Solia to fly. However, with her Aether Engine currently damaged, she may glide, but cannot outright fly high or long without risk of plummeting from the sky.
Simply put, this magic allows Solia to fly. However, with her Aether Engine currently damaged, she may glide, but cannot outright fly high or long without risk of plummeting from the sky.
A form of Aether-magic involving the manipulation of the air and sound, this magic was developed for the angels of Maelstrom Spire only a century or so ago. While their wings allowed them to scale the spire with relative ease, the angels could not be expected to see every winding, rising corner.
This enchantment enhanced their hearing, but very specifically. It allowed them to pick up sounds of distress, namely calls for help. Despite the logical nature of the spire’s residents, many came to view this as a kind of prayer. Whether they were called for more mundane tasks, or to protect someone from danger, whenever “help” was uttered in sincerity, it was never done lightly.
Currently, Solia still has access to this enchantment, but possesses the ability to silence it with focus.
This enchantment enhanced their hearing, but very specifically. It allowed them to pick up sounds of distress, namely calls for help. Despite the logical nature of the spire’s residents, many came to view this as a kind of prayer. Whether they were called for more mundane tasks, or to protect someone from danger, whenever “help” was uttered in sincerity, it was never done lightly.
Currently, Solia still has access to this enchantment, but possesses the ability to silence it with focus.
Personality
As a construct created to protect Maelstrom Spire, Solia is generally amicable. She exudes sympathy and concern for the wellbeing of others, and is especially responsive towards those in need, rarely turning down a request for help.
This is not necessarily Solia’s nature, but rather the nature of her kind by and large. When she isn’t busied in body and mind assisting others, one might assume her to be a more reclusive sort. In reality, Solia tends to do a lot of thinking, which is something she did not do a lot of at the Spire. In the days leading up to and ever since its collapse, she and a sizable number of Maelstrom’s angels began to think much more independently. It wasn’t that they were mere automatons before, but duty had always been at the forefront of their minds, and informed all their actions.
Now, in addition to the guilt of her own survival and failure, Solia struggles with the independence imposed upon her. As a result, she tends to second-guess herself in most situations when presented with a choice, and in her travelling, has gone to great lengths to avoid isolation whenever possible.
History
Maelstrom Spire is one of Aruth’s oldest structures. Once nothing more than a humble bump of dirt and rock jutting up from the flood, survivors from the old world raised it into a port. Their skills as builders ensured that it was not only stable against the settling waves, but generously sized. So fervently did the builders work, and so readily did those who came to Maelstrom learn their craft, that, when the rest of the world was only beginning to stabilize itself, the port had grown to the width of a small town, and had several stories to it.
Centuries passed this way; visitors who decided to stay in Maelstrom would end up building upon it. Eventually, when they could go no higher for fear of the winds and the thinness of the air, the residents deemed their port a proper spire.
Once Maelstrom ceased to grow physically, it began to grow intellectually. Its reputation for building morphed over the following years into a reputation for general invention. Welcoming to all who wished to further their knowledge of old-world technology, or to pioneer newer creations, the Maelstrom turned away no ambitions, so long as they caused no harm.
Since the Maelstrom’s focus shifted towards peaceful invention, there was a silent understanding that, if the citizens were not going to defend themselves, then they would need to be defended. At first this simply meant hiring mercenaries to patrol their waters, but unlike the works created within the Maelstrom’s halls, people were fickle. They were tricky, and unreliable.
Then, the Chief-Architect at the time, Baelia Somni, astounded her fellow inventors with her new creation: the Aether Golem. Powered by the same magical engines found in ships, these golems were able to man vessels, keep watch, and¬—if needed—even defend the Spire. Able to wield Aether weaponry with inhuman might and precision, it was not long until the Maelstrom entered an era of intellectual prosperity behind the shield of Baelia’s golems. She passed before the peak of this time, but was then also spared the eventual fall of her creations.
Over time pirates grew braver, bolder, and smarter. They knew that while the golems were strong, they lacked the most crucial aspect of a living thing. They did not think, they merely did. Armed with vicious, cunning, and thoroughly human ingenuity, a band of pirates larger than had ever collectively attacked Maelstrom before, nearly brought it to ruin.
Faced with a terrible darkness, it was Baelia’s protégé and grandson, Rom Somni who stepped forward to protect the Spire with his new invention. Similar in concept to the Aether Golems, Rom’s creations were more sophisticated and pointedly more human. Unlike their predecessors, who were massive and blocky, these new beings had wiry frames like alabaster, pallid and stony. They lacked the same overwhelming strength, but they could be gentle, and nimble, and swift. Their Aether Engines were much more like actual hearts, pumping the magical essence through them as blood would flow through a human. They could listen and speak, they could act outside of a predetermined routine. To a hazily-defined extent they could think. To many, Rom included, they were alive.
He called them Angels.
As with all Aether Constructs of the time, their creator’s death meant their own as well. So, with the success of his inventions, it became tradition that each new Chief-Architect would learn Rom’s process and, when their time came to lead, they would create their own band of angels.
Centuries passed this way; visitors who decided to stay in Maelstrom would end up building upon it. Eventually, when they could go no higher for fear of the winds and the thinness of the air, the residents deemed their port a proper spire.
Once Maelstrom ceased to grow physically, it began to grow intellectually. Its reputation for building morphed over the following years into a reputation for general invention. Welcoming to all who wished to further their knowledge of old-world technology, or to pioneer newer creations, the Maelstrom turned away no ambitions, so long as they caused no harm.
Since the Maelstrom’s focus shifted towards peaceful invention, there was a silent understanding that, if the citizens were not going to defend themselves, then they would need to be defended. At first this simply meant hiring mercenaries to patrol their waters, but unlike the works created within the Maelstrom’s halls, people were fickle. They were tricky, and unreliable.
Then, the Chief-Architect at the time, Baelia Somni, astounded her fellow inventors with her new creation: the Aether Golem. Powered by the same magical engines found in ships, these golems were able to man vessels, keep watch, and¬—if needed—even defend the Spire. Able to wield Aether weaponry with inhuman might and precision, it was not long until the Maelstrom entered an era of intellectual prosperity behind the shield of Baelia’s golems. She passed before the peak of this time, but was then also spared the eventual fall of her creations.
Over time pirates grew braver, bolder, and smarter. They knew that while the golems were strong, they lacked the most crucial aspect of a living thing. They did not think, they merely did. Armed with vicious, cunning, and thoroughly human ingenuity, a band of pirates larger than had ever collectively attacked Maelstrom before, nearly brought it to ruin.
Faced with a terrible darkness, it was Baelia’s protégé and grandson, Rom Somni who stepped forward to protect the Spire with his new invention. Similar in concept to the Aether Golems, Rom’s creations were more sophisticated and pointedly more human. Unlike their predecessors, who were massive and blocky, these new beings had wiry frames like alabaster, pallid and stony. They lacked the same overwhelming strength, but they could be gentle, and nimble, and swift. Their Aether Engines were much more like actual hearts, pumping the magical essence through them as blood would flow through a human. They could listen and speak, they could act outside of a predetermined routine. To a hazily-defined extent they could think. To many, Rom included, they were alive.
He called them Angels.
As with all Aether Constructs of the time, their creator’s death meant their own as well. So, with the success of his inventions, it became tradition that each new Chief-Architect would learn Rom’s process and, when their time came to lead, they would create their own band of angels.
It was not until only fifty years ago that the last Chief-Architect Maelstrom Spire would ever have, discovered a way to improve upon Rom Somni's mysterious designs.
Mordin Ori’s angels were independent.
Solia was made during a time of relative peace. She saw no terrible devastation until the Spire’s fall, and enjoyed a cycle of residents who, unlike some past, enjoyed the presence of angels. She spent many of her days fluttering through the levels, assisting inventors with casual labor, patrolling the docks, or simply resting in the company of her brothers and sisters.
Mordin had made twenty-five of them, the smallest number to date, but he had also insisted on undertaking the entire process himself. With no help the creation took much longer, but he was almost manically obsessed with keeping the nuances of his “recipe” a secret. In fact, from the time he began until he was finished, he was utterly unreachable. Mordin put much more care into them than his predecessors had. He sculpted them individual faces, threaded hair into their scalps and etched tiny imperfections into their eyes. Each angel was entirely unique in appearance, with similarities designed to appear familial.
Solia was among the last to take her first “breath.” Like all angels, she was fully aware of herself, what she was, what her purpose was; everything that Mordin deigned they should know, they knew. He referred to them as his “children” and they knew to call him “father.”
The oddities did not end with their appearances, though. Mordin’s angels also acted dissimilarly to the ones who had come before. Their thoughts and actions were mechanical, but their decisions often weren’t. They did things on impulse, without always knowing why. One of Solia’s brothers would spend much of his free time whittling driftwood into fantastical art, another of her sisters could choose not to hear requests for help. Some of her siblings gained reputations for their peculiar behaviors. Solia herself was given to these strange impulses as well. Whenever the Spire did face danger, and she came to blows with pirates, rogue adventurers and imperial deserters, she never left the survivors to drown. In armfuls she would pluck the thrashing crews from the brine and drop them on the Spire’s docks to be hauled off into jail cells. Those she could not save, she left, and this plagued her with the beginnings of guilt.
By and by the residents came to know her as the “Maelstrom’s Mercy.” She found the title pleasant, and father seemed proud of her. Tentatively speaking, all was well. For a time.
Eventually the day of reckoning came. A fleet of rogue ships, united but bearing no flags, set upon Maelstrom Spire with unprecedented fury. Solia and her siblings swarmed them, weapons alight with Aether magic, ready to unleash the full might of the Spire’s angelic guard. But the fleet was prepared.
The ships and every crewman responded with weaponry unbefitting a seasoned adventurer, let alone a vagabond cluster of ships. Only Imperial research and Imperial coin could have supplied such equipment. Aether light arced across the sky, crashing against the angels’ stony bodies and sending them shattering into the waves. Those who managed to land upon the ships found themselves overwhelmed by war-hammers and guns much more advanced than anything they had faced before, wielded by men and women with the combative prowess to match the angels’ strength and speed.
Solia landed heavily on the leading ship’s deck, wings fizzled and engine damaged. She and two of her siblings managed to stave off much of the crew, until the captain appeared. Amidst the rain and lightning, she never figured if they were man, woman, or unholy beast. They said nothing, only roared with horrible fury as they smashed both of her siblings apart.
Alone with naught but her spear, Solia and the captain clashed in a flurry of Aether sparks and vicious strikes. As they fought, it became clear there would be no victory for Maelstrom. Before them the Spire’s frame shuddered and leaned under the constant barrage of cannon fire. People fell from its highest levels, whole chunks of beautiful, ancient architecture crumbled away. The inevitable end was coming.
In a masterstroke, the captain’s hammer caught Solia across the face, smashing away one of her eyes, and they shoved her overboard. In the brief moments she spent tangled in the side-roping, she saw Maelstrom Spire start to collapse, saw her father’s station explode in Aether fire. Then the captain cut her free, and she was plunged into the deep.
Solia came to a rest on the sea floor, surrounded by wreckage, and the debris-remains of her siblings. With her engine damaged, she could not raise herself back to the surface and so had only one option—she began to walk. At first she rushed, hoping to find some means of returning to the fight, but quickly she realized there was nothing, and nothing she could do about it.
Weeks passed this way, until eventually she came to a reef near enough to the surface that, when a ship passed by, she latched onto its hull like a barnacle and was carried with it. The crew was bewildered and frightened, though they had heard of Maelstrom Spire.
She was far from it now, but word had travelled fast. Even people who hadn’t known of the Spire knew of the attack, it was a leveled wreck now. Those who had survived were either captured, or rescued in the following weeks by passing ships. Nothing was left.
The crew took her to another port, but no further, and she continued to travel this way. She covered her more apparent damage under rags and bandages, passing for human when it was necessary and the inspection wasn’t too thorough. Not that she wanted to hide.
Mordin Ori’s angels were independent.
Solia was made during a time of relative peace. She saw no terrible devastation until the Spire’s fall, and enjoyed a cycle of residents who, unlike some past, enjoyed the presence of angels. She spent many of her days fluttering through the levels, assisting inventors with casual labor, patrolling the docks, or simply resting in the company of her brothers and sisters.
Mordin had made twenty-five of them, the smallest number to date, but he had also insisted on undertaking the entire process himself. With no help the creation took much longer, but he was almost manically obsessed with keeping the nuances of his “recipe” a secret. In fact, from the time he began until he was finished, he was utterly unreachable. Mordin put much more care into them than his predecessors had. He sculpted them individual faces, threaded hair into their scalps and etched tiny imperfections into their eyes. Each angel was entirely unique in appearance, with similarities designed to appear familial.
Solia was among the last to take her first “breath.” Like all angels, she was fully aware of herself, what she was, what her purpose was; everything that Mordin deigned they should know, they knew. He referred to them as his “children” and they knew to call him “father.”
The oddities did not end with their appearances, though. Mordin’s angels also acted dissimilarly to the ones who had come before. Their thoughts and actions were mechanical, but their decisions often weren’t. They did things on impulse, without always knowing why. One of Solia’s brothers would spend much of his free time whittling driftwood into fantastical art, another of her sisters could choose not to hear requests for help. Some of her siblings gained reputations for their peculiar behaviors. Solia herself was given to these strange impulses as well. Whenever the Spire did face danger, and she came to blows with pirates, rogue adventurers and imperial deserters, she never left the survivors to drown. In armfuls she would pluck the thrashing crews from the brine and drop them on the Spire’s docks to be hauled off into jail cells. Those she could not save, she left, and this plagued her with the beginnings of guilt.
By and by the residents came to know her as the “Maelstrom’s Mercy.” She found the title pleasant, and father seemed proud of her. Tentatively speaking, all was well. For a time.
Eventually the day of reckoning came. A fleet of rogue ships, united but bearing no flags, set upon Maelstrom Spire with unprecedented fury. Solia and her siblings swarmed them, weapons alight with Aether magic, ready to unleash the full might of the Spire’s angelic guard. But the fleet was prepared.
The ships and every crewman responded with weaponry unbefitting a seasoned adventurer, let alone a vagabond cluster of ships. Only Imperial research and Imperial coin could have supplied such equipment. Aether light arced across the sky, crashing against the angels’ stony bodies and sending them shattering into the waves. Those who managed to land upon the ships found themselves overwhelmed by war-hammers and guns much more advanced than anything they had faced before, wielded by men and women with the combative prowess to match the angels’ strength and speed.
Solia landed heavily on the leading ship’s deck, wings fizzled and engine damaged. She and two of her siblings managed to stave off much of the crew, until the captain appeared. Amidst the rain and lightning, she never figured if they were man, woman, or unholy beast. They said nothing, only roared with horrible fury as they smashed both of her siblings apart.
Alone with naught but her spear, Solia and the captain clashed in a flurry of Aether sparks and vicious strikes. As they fought, it became clear there would be no victory for Maelstrom. Before them the Spire’s frame shuddered and leaned under the constant barrage of cannon fire. People fell from its highest levels, whole chunks of beautiful, ancient architecture crumbled away. The inevitable end was coming.
In a masterstroke, the captain’s hammer caught Solia across the face, smashing away one of her eyes, and they shoved her overboard. In the brief moments she spent tangled in the side-roping, she saw Maelstrom Spire start to collapse, saw her father’s station explode in Aether fire. Then the captain cut her free, and she was plunged into the deep.
Solia came to a rest on the sea floor, surrounded by wreckage, and the debris-remains of her siblings. With her engine damaged, she could not raise herself back to the surface and so had only one option—she began to walk. At first she rushed, hoping to find some means of returning to the fight, but quickly she realized there was nothing, and nothing she could do about it.
Weeks passed this way, until eventually she came to a reef near enough to the surface that, when a ship passed by, she latched onto its hull like a barnacle and was carried with it. The crew was bewildered and frightened, though they had heard of Maelstrom Spire.
She was far from it now, but word had travelled fast. Even people who hadn’t known of the Spire knew of the attack, it was a leveled wreck now. Those who had survived were either captured, or rescued in the following weeks by passing ships. Nothing was left.
The crew took her to another port, but no further, and she continued to travel this way. She covered her more apparent damage under rags and bandages, passing for human when it was necessary and the inspection wasn’t too thorough. Not that she wanted to hide.
Gear
Aether Engine: Similar to the types of engines found in ships, Maelstrom’s angels ran on a more condensed, refined machine that would be comparable to a heart. Cycling Aether through the body allows Solia to function perpetually in a normal state with only miniscule energy decay over large periods of time. However, when utilizing Aether for abilities such as flight, the Aether is drained similarly to how it is in humans. The effects of using magic are equally as apparent, and continuous usage requires time to “recharge” or a source of Aether to draw from.
Overexertion often leads to damage to the Aether Engine. Since the angels existed exclusively at Maelstrom Spire, this wasn’t a concern as the Chief Architect would simply repair them as-needed. Now however, with the secrets to their construction lost, rare is the Aether mechanic who might successfully tinker with them.
Currently, Solia’s Aether Engine is damaged.
Harpoon: Once, Solia wielded a masterfully crafted, Aether-infused spear that crackled with lightning. Like all angels she was created with the combative prowess necessary to defend Maelstrom Spire, and handled her weapon with strength and grace.
That spear now lies in pieces in the rubble of the Spire’s wreckage.
Though her home is gone and her purpose lost, Solia cannot help but answer those in need. The harpoon she carries is practically driftwood, gnarled with a jagged tip and rusted edge. As a replacement it is almost a mockery, but it serves well enough.
Body of Stone: Though Mordin went to great lengths to make his "children" appear human, at the end of the day the angels of Maelstrom Spire were, like even the most ancient Aether Golems, made from inanimate objects. In Solia and her siblings' cases, this was a pristine, alabaster-like stone.
This means that Solia is rather tough, and especially resistant to edged weaponry. However, this also means she is quite heavy, requiring more effort to utilize her wings--a tax she cannot pay so freely any longer. As well she is especially vulnerable to blunt weaponry, and awkward landings could risk shattering her. Thankfully injuries like these can be healed through lunar-magic just as it would effect flesh, but Solia herself has no aptitude for it.
Currently Solia is damaged. Her left eye has been smashed away, and there are several chips and cracks along her left arm. She hides these wounds under bandages and cloaks.
Fading Memory The Final Flame of a Fiery Bird
Member
Seen
3 days ago
Te r h i k k i V e p s ä l ä i n e n
“The Frozen Sea makes us tough- tough enough to break the ice. I won't let warmer waters stop me now.”
Name
Terhikki Vepsäläinen
Age
Eighteen
Gender
Female
Home Sea
The Frozen Sea - Snow Hare Tribe
The tribe of the Snow Hare is a tribe dedicated to survival and nomadic lifestyles. The tribe of wanders makes their living by diving and climbing across the Frozen Sea's ice shelves, and are rudimentary sailors at best. Due to their affinity for swimming in the sea and walking the most dangerous parts of the ice shelves with relative ease, the Snow Hares are one of the largest and most well known tribes of the Frozen Sea. Much of the sea's sub-aquatic plunder falls into their hardy and ever-searching hands.
Tattoos and other forms of body art are significant to the Snow Hares not only for the survival aspect of it- if someone is lost in the snow, it's easier to see someone with bright red marks on their face or arms, etc- but also as a way of expression. Terhikki, for example, has many tattoos of the first flowers she's ever seen on various parts of her body. She intends to add more tattoos for particularly beautiful flowers she encounters in her explorations.
Aether Sign
Sun
Aether Abilities
Nope
Personality
"'Survival of the fittest' was the first rule of the Snow Hares. Tch. Guess I'm the fittest, huh?"
Terhikki is an unbearably confident lass, her time spent as an ice-climber and ice-diver hardening and toughening her up quite a bit. She's strong beyond her age- incredibly so- and has stared down some of the nastiest creatures of the Frozen Seas without so much as batting an eyelash in the name of fear.
She feels as if she could take on the world by herself and come out on top- but everything worth doing, is worth doing with friends! The tribal mentality of 'All for One' has lead the girl to becoming lonely very easily, making her extremely outspoken in an attempt to garner friendship with those she meets. She is an innately trusting and friendly individual, welcoming newcomers with open arms- but to those who mean her or her friends harm, she swiftly becomes as cold and unforgiving as the Ice she calls 'Home'.
History
"My name means 'Flower'. I think that's kinda dumb, but hey- it's my name, so only I can make fun of it. Everyone else has to like it!...I'm not sure what my last name means, though. Think it's just a name. Blech."
The Frozen Sea is an unforgiving home. The peoples here are hard, strong, and tightly knit. The Snow Hare tribe is no different from the other peoples of the Frozen Sea in these aspects. Where the Snow Hares stand out is their unwavering resolve to conquer the snow and ice, rather than just eke out a survival on its surface.
The Snow Hare tribe has attained a reputation for being the masters of the ice and frigid waters of the Frozen Sea; they are most well known as independent divers who break the ice, and nomads who wander the surface of the snow rather than take to the sea unless they have to.
Terhikki was born to this tribe, this tribe of hardened survivors and explorers, with an immense amount of crying. This overbearing amount of sound that the infant produced caused both its mother and clan chieftain to laugh, and the chieftain expressed a particularly amusing thought after hearing the child's unbearable crying; "Well, at least it won't be quiet on the ice anymore."
Little did the Snow Hares realize their Chieftain's comical quip would turn out to be a prophecy for the girl's entire life. All through her childhood and youth, Terhikki was relentless in her curiosity to understand the world around her- and her energy seemed limitless for sprinting through the snows, or climbing across the ice. The only task forbidden to her as a child was to dive into the sea- and, naturally, this one forbidden task turned out to be the one that fascinated her the most.
As a small child, she would often sit on the edge of an ice shelf and watch as the older divers bravely launched themselves off the shelf and into the sea below. It was such an exciting and spectacular thing- watching her brothers and sisters of the Snow Hares submerge into the frozen waters and re-surface with glittering treasures, or beasts from the hunt to feed the tribe.
She swore that, one day, she would become the greatest diver in all the Snow Hare tribe. But until that day, she would practice her climbing and running ceaselessly while taking care of her other duties.
The Tribe was fond of the young girl- her questions brought light to a bleak world, and her excitement was refreshing. Children often had this effect on the hardened survivors of the cold, and many were glad to have this 'Flower of the Snow' in their tribe.
The Frozen Sea is an unforgiving home. The peoples here are hard, strong, and tightly knit. The Snow Hare tribe is no different from the other peoples of the Frozen Sea in these aspects. Where the Snow Hares stand out is their unwavering resolve to conquer the snow and ice, rather than just eke out a survival on its surface.
The Snow Hare tribe has attained a reputation for being the masters of the ice and frigid waters of the Frozen Sea; they are most well known as independent divers who break the ice, and nomads who wander the surface of the snow rather than take to the sea unless they have to.
Terhikki was born to this tribe, this tribe of hardened survivors and explorers, with an immense amount of crying. This overbearing amount of sound that the infant produced caused both its mother and clan chieftain to laugh, and the chieftain expressed a particularly amusing thought after hearing the child's unbearable crying; "Well, at least it won't be quiet on the ice anymore."
Little did the Snow Hares realize their Chieftain's comical quip would turn out to be a prophecy for the girl's entire life. All through her childhood and youth, Terhikki was relentless in her curiosity to understand the world around her- and her energy seemed limitless for sprinting through the snows, or climbing across the ice. The only task forbidden to her as a child was to dive into the sea- and, naturally, this one forbidden task turned out to be the one that fascinated her the most.
As a small child, she would often sit on the edge of an ice shelf and watch as the older divers bravely launched themselves off the shelf and into the sea below. It was such an exciting and spectacular thing- watching her brothers and sisters of the Snow Hares submerge into the frozen waters and re-surface with glittering treasures, or beasts from the hunt to feed the tribe.
She swore that, one day, she would become the greatest diver in all the Snow Hare tribe. But until that day, she would practice her climbing and running ceaselessly while taking care of her other duties.
The Tribe was fond of the young girl- her questions brought light to a bleak world, and her excitement was refreshing. Children often had this effect on the hardened survivors of the cold, and many were glad to have this 'Flower of the Snow' in their tribe.
Terhikki was fourteen. Finally old enough to officially join the Divers of her tribe. When she received her climbing gear she squealed with delight- but soon find that her childhood excitement was no longer welcome.
"Teacher was the best. He was the tribe's most experienced diver and warrior. When I screamed at having my own gear at last, it was also my first time experiencing the cold waters of my Home. I jumped up and down in excitement, only for him to suddenly push me off the shelf and into the sea. I remember that cold to this day- no other cold even compares. Some nights I still feel that chill in my bones, but after I got over my anger I realized what teacher had done.
Teacher had taught me to respect the sea with one simple gesture. Ugh, teacher was so cool. I wish I could do things like that. When I pushed someone in the sea, I got my rations cut for a week. Goes to show how cool of a guy he was, yeah?
Terhikki had to grow up- fast. What she always found so exciting to watch and observe, she now had to live. And for a Snow Hare, diving is almost uniquely tied to 'survival'. Terhikki found herself being the one the tribe blamed if there wasn't enough food, or enough to trade, and she finally understood the weight of the burden divers suffered.
She didn't bend, however. She stood up straighter, held herself high, and refused to let the weight of her tribe hold her down.
She began to swim harder, faster, go deeper than she ever had before. Pushing herself harder and harder for the sake of the tribe. As she turned fifteen, Terhikki had become one of the tribe's best swimmers- second only to her own Teacher.
She had one thing she could never do, however. Something critical to the Snow Hare Divers; Breaking the Ice.
----
"The traditional way of breaking the ice is hard work, but effective. Most divers carry a long harpoon with a great weight on the counterbalancing end- making it into both spear and mallet. The standard process was to embed the Ice Knife into the layer of ice you wished to shatter, then take the mallet and smash the knife down until it cracked the ice and you could pull it apart. Makes sense, yeah?
Well I don't carry no mallet. Don't need one, because I'm the best at breaking it."
Terhikki struggled at breaking the ice for the better half of her fifteenth with the Snow Hares. She swung the mallet, hit the knife, and just couldn't get the job done in a satisfactory manner. Even her teacher was astounded at her lack of ability to do this relatively simple task- She had always been incredibly strong, comparatively to the rest of her tribe, and her unwavering fervor for the Diving had always fuelled her to succeed no matter what.
So for Terhikki to fail at the most important part of Ice Diving... It was disheartening. To both Terhikki and her Teacher. Terhikki nearly gave up on ice-breaking entirely after her repeated failures, but one night while walking on the ice- deep in thought, worried about her own failures- something horrible and beautiful happened.
The Ice Broke beneath her feet, sending her plummeting into the frozen landscape below.
"Oh boy you bet I remember falling in the ice like that. If I hadn't been locked up in my own head, I would've heard the faint cracks of the ice under the snow. No problem, right? But I was dumb, looking back on my failures rather than forward to my successes, and i wasn't paying attention. When I hit the waters, I thanked my Teacher deep in my heart for pushing me in the sea at the very beginning- the shock of falling in right then didn't knock me out."
Terhikki swam down, avoiding the ice falling above her- thusly blocking her way back out the same hole she came down. It was a terribly cold night, and the ice was already freezing back over into a horrendously thick layer; the thin-ness of the section now freezing over the thicker chunks she had broken down.
She didn't have her rebreather. She didn't have her ice hook. All she was carrying that evening was her Ice Knife. She wasted precious moments thinking about how she was about to die because she broke the ice and fell through, when she could never break the ice when she wanted to.
A pounding in the ice a small distance away shook her from her reverie; the other divers heard the ice break and had sprinted over to break through in a new spot, to give Terhikki a chance to survive. The fact they hadn't given up on her lit a fire in Terhikki's heart, and she surged up to the ice from below. She didn't have a mallet, but she had her ice knife and a newfound feeling of determination blazing in her soul.
Her lungs screamed at her as she stabbed the knife into the ice above her in futility, feebly forcing her chilled limbs to move.
After about a minute of this, she realized that those above her weren't going to be able to break the ice in time. Despair entered her heart, but she didn't let it take root. The overwhelming determination to survive swallowed that seed of hopelessness and blazed ever stronger in her heart.
Even as her vision began to grow dark, she gripped the Ice Knife anew and reared her arm back in the water...
and when she swung up this time, her knife smashed through the ice and broke all the way through to the surface. Her arm only had to rise for a moment before familiar, strong, hands grabbed her and pulled her from the ice.
Terhikki, for her part, was already unconscious before she rose from the sea. She didn't learn she'd broken the ice by herself until later when she woke up and was told the parts of the story she missed.
When she was finally able to return to Diving, she found that she could break the ice with just her knife- no mallet needed. This emboldened her immensely, and for the next few years of her time with the Snow Hares she became increasingly more ambitious as a diver, as she could always break a new hole in the ice to resurface whenever she needed, rather than relying on finding one already broken-in.
"Teacher was the best. He was the tribe's most experienced diver and warrior. When I screamed at having my own gear at last, it was also my first time experiencing the cold waters of my Home. I jumped up and down in excitement, only for him to suddenly push me off the shelf and into the sea. I remember that cold to this day- no other cold even compares. Some nights I still feel that chill in my bones, but after I got over my anger I realized what teacher had done.
Teacher had taught me to respect the sea with one simple gesture. Ugh, teacher was so cool. I wish I could do things like that. When I pushed someone in the sea, I got my rations cut for a week. Goes to show how cool of a guy he was, yeah?
Terhikki had to grow up- fast. What she always found so exciting to watch and observe, she now had to live. And for a Snow Hare, diving is almost uniquely tied to 'survival'. Terhikki found herself being the one the tribe blamed if there wasn't enough food, or enough to trade, and she finally understood the weight of the burden divers suffered.
She didn't bend, however. She stood up straighter, held herself high, and refused to let the weight of her tribe hold her down.
She began to swim harder, faster, go deeper than she ever had before. Pushing herself harder and harder for the sake of the tribe. As she turned fifteen, Terhikki had become one of the tribe's best swimmers- second only to her own Teacher.
She had one thing she could never do, however. Something critical to the Snow Hare Divers; Breaking the Ice.
----
"The traditional way of breaking the ice is hard work, but effective. Most divers carry a long harpoon with a great weight on the counterbalancing end- making it into both spear and mallet. The standard process was to embed the Ice Knife into the layer of ice you wished to shatter, then take the mallet and smash the knife down until it cracked the ice and you could pull it apart. Makes sense, yeah?
Well I don't carry no mallet. Don't need one, because I'm the best at breaking it."
Terhikki struggled at breaking the ice for the better half of her fifteenth with the Snow Hares. She swung the mallet, hit the knife, and just couldn't get the job done in a satisfactory manner. Even her teacher was astounded at her lack of ability to do this relatively simple task- She had always been incredibly strong, comparatively to the rest of her tribe, and her unwavering fervor for the Diving had always fuelled her to succeed no matter what.
So for Terhikki to fail at the most important part of Ice Diving... It was disheartening. To both Terhikki and her Teacher. Terhikki nearly gave up on ice-breaking entirely after her repeated failures, but one night while walking on the ice- deep in thought, worried about her own failures- something horrible and beautiful happened.
The Ice Broke beneath her feet, sending her plummeting into the frozen landscape below.
"Oh boy you bet I remember falling in the ice like that. If I hadn't been locked up in my own head, I would've heard the faint cracks of the ice under the snow. No problem, right? But I was dumb, looking back on my failures rather than forward to my successes, and i wasn't paying attention. When I hit the waters, I thanked my Teacher deep in my heart for pushing me in the sea at the very beginning- the shock of falling in right then didn't knock me out."
Terhikki swam down, avoiding the ice falling above her- thusly blocking her way back out the same hole she came down. It was a terribly cold night, and the ice was already freezing back over into a horrendously thick layer; the thin-ness of the section now freezing over the thicker chunks she had broken down.
She didn't have her rebreather. She didn't have her ice hook. All she was carrying that evening was her Ice Knife. She wasted precious moments thinking about how she was about to die because she broke the ice and fell through, when she could never break the ice when she wanted to.
A pounding in the ice a small distance away shook her from her reverie; the other divers heard the ice break and had sprinted over to break through in a new spot, to give Terhikki a chance to survive. The fact they hadn't given up on her lit a fire in Terhikki's heart, and she surged up to the ice from below. She didn't have a mallet, but she had her ice knife and a newfound feeling of determination blazing in her soul.
Her lungs screamed at her as she stabbed the knife into the ice above her in futility, feebly forcing her chilled limbs to move.
After about a minute of this, she realized that those above her weren't going to be able to break the ice in time. Despair entered her heart, but she didn't let it take root. The overwhelming determination to survive swallowed that seed of hopelessness and blazed ever stronger in her heart.
Even as her vision began to grow dark, she gripped the Ice Knife anew and reared her arm back in the water...
and when she swung up this time, her knife smashed through the ice and broke all the way through to the surface. Her arm only had to rise for a moment before familiar, strong, hands grabbed her and pulled her from the ice.
Terhikki, for her part, was already unconscious before she rose from the sea. She didn't learn she'd broken the ice by herself until later when she woke up and was told the parts of the story she missed.
When she was finally able to return to Diving, she found that she could break the ice with just her knife- no mallet needed. This emboldened her immensely, and for the next few years of her time with the Snow Hares she became increasingly more ambitious as a diver, as she could always break a new hole in the ice to resurface whenever she needed, rather than relying on finding one already broken-in.
After a few years, Terhikki found herself...empty. Not depressed or hopeless, but dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She loved diving, loved her tribe, but... knowing that there were six other seas out there, full of monsters and treasure and exploration to be had, made her want to leave behind the ice and snow of her Home.
"When I sat on the Ice Shelf at night, I'd look up into the stars and wonder if these stars that I was looking at were the same in other seas. I would see the moon, the sun, the sky, and every day I'd begin to see more and more in it that I recognized. Constellations, movements, small things that used to amaze and astound me that now left me...Empty. It wasn't new anymore, it was commonplace- everyday- something that the others found comforting in our world of shifting ice and rolling waves...
But for me, it was painful. Seeing the sky become...boring. It's what triggered the wanderlust at first. I could no longer look in the sky and find something new to wonder about. What really pushed me was when my tribe finally stopped at the capital of the Frozen Sea- I'd never been there before in my life, so it was...a wondrous experience.
When the Snow Hare tribe returns to Windkeep, it's a time of massive trade. The famed divers and explorers, when returning, bring with them immense wealth in the form of salvaged goods, and in return trade for the supplies and tools they can't salvage or replicate themselves for their travels.
This was Terhikki's first time at Windkeep, and her brief stay changed her forever. She witnessed, firsthand, peoples from other seas bartering and trading- Imperialists sneering over the hard peoples of the Frozen Sea and striking hard bargains, mysterious figures from the Dragon Sea peddling secrets and wares she couldn't imagine, and so much more.
It was like looking at a brand new world, a new night sky if you will. It sparked a fire in Terhikki's gut that she couldn't just let simmer until it died- it was like the fire that drove her to become a diver in the first place. She wandered Windkeep aimlessly- but not recklessly or restlessly. She used her seemingly endless amount of energy to ask traders about their home seas, about what the sky looked like outside the Frozen Sea, asked them questions about their families, their lives, their work-
she asked them every question she possibly could until most of them got tired of entertaining her.
"Tch...I was such a little girl. I was so fascinated by all this...newness, by these things I'd never imagined. Heck, I still am- it's why I left. Talking to all those folks and hearing all their stories made me realize I wanted to leave. It was a hard decision, don't get me wrong. Few members of the Snow Hares ever considered leaving, and the ones that did never returned.
But me...I love my tribe, more than I love myself. But I also love the sky, and the sea, and all the little treasures and monsters hidden deep down below the surface...and well, if there's more to experience out there...I have to find it, y'know? Find it and bring whatever i can back, to show the tribe that the world outside the Frozen Sea is just as fascinating as the world below it."
She approached her Teacher before the tribe left, presenting him with her desire to leave the tribe and the Frozen Sea. Her teacher didn't even hesitate to encourage her to leave- he reassured her that the Tribe would be okay without her, and that they'd await her return one day.
She hugged her teacher tightly and thanked him a thousand and one times, before packing all her things and heading out on a ship of traders to experience the rest of the Seas.
She was going to start on the far opposite end of the world; the Southern Sea.
"I headed out with fire in my heart, secure in the knowledge that one day when I returned I'd have a home with the Snow Hares. But for now? For now I would explore every inch of the world I could, and I would bring small parts back with me. Small things about the world, about its people, that I can bring back to the Frozen Sea to show my people and teach them about the outside world. My only complaint about the outside world?
HOW CAN PEOPLE HANDLE IT BEING SO HOT ALL THE TIME? AHHHHH-"
"When I sat on the Ice Shelf at night, I'd look up into the stars and wonder if these stars that I was looking at were the same in other seas. I would see the moon, the sun, the sky, and every day I'd begin to see more and more in it that I recognized. Constellations, movements, small things that used to amaze and astound me that now left me...Empty. It wasn't new anymore, it was commonplace- everyday- something that the others found comforting in our world of shifting ice and rolling waves...
But for me, it was painful. Seeing the sky become...boring. It's what triggered the wanderlust at first. I could no longer look in the sky and find something new to wonder about. What really pushed me was when my tribe finally stopped at the capital of the Frozen Sea- I'd never been there before in my life, so it was...a wondrous experience.
When the Snow Hare tribe returns to Windkeep, it's a time of massive trade. The famed divers and explorers, when returning, bring with them immense wealth in the form of salvaged goods, and in return trade for the supplies and tools they can't salvage or replicate themselves for their travels.
This was Terhikki's first time at Windkeep, and her brief stay changed her forever. She witnessed, firsthand, peoples from other seas bartering and trading- Imperialists sneering over the hard peoples of the Frozen Sea and striking hard bargains, mysterious figures from the Dragon Sea peddling secrets and wares she couldn't imagine, and so much more.
It was like looking at a brand new world, a new night sky if you will. It sparked a fire in Terhikki's gut that she couldn't just let simmer until it died- it was like the fire that drove her to become a diver in the first place. She wandered Windkeep aimlessly- but not recklessly or restlessly. She used her seemingly endless amount of energy to ask traders about their home seas, about what the sky looked like outside the Frozen Sea, asked them questions about their families, their lives, their work-
she asked them every question she possibly could until most of them got tired of entertaining her.
"Tch...I was such a little girl. I was so fascinated by all this...newness, by these things I'd never imagined. Heck, I still am- it's why I left. Talking to all those folks and hearing all their stories made me realize I wanted to leave. It was a hard decision, don't get me wrong. Few members of the Snow Hares ever considered leaving, and the ones that did never returned.
But me...I love my tribe, more than I love myself. But I also love the sky, and the sea, and all the little treasures and monsters hidden deep down below the surface...and well, if there's more to experience out there...I have to find it, y'know? Find it and bring whatever i can back, to show the tribe that the world outside the Frozen Sea is just as fascinating as the world below it."
She approached her Teacher before the tribe left, presenting him with her desire to leave the tribe and the Frozen Sea. Her teacher didn't even hesitate to encourage her to leave- he reassured her that the Tribe would be okay without her, and that they'd await her return one day.
She hugged her teacher tightly and thanked him a thousand and one times, before packing all her things and heading out on a ship of traders to experience the rest of the Seas.
She was going to start on the far opposite end of the world; the Southern Sea.
"I headed out with fire in my heart, secure in the knowledge that one day when I returned I'd have a home with the Snow Hares. But for now? For now I would explore every inch of the world I could, and I would bring small parts back with me. Small things about the world, about its people, that I can bring back to the Frozen Sea to show my people and teach them about the outside world. My only complaint about the outside world?
HOW CAN PEOPLE HANDLE IT BEING SO HOT ALL THE TIME? AHHHHH-"
Gear
2x 'Snow Hare' Ice Axes [Climbing tools that Terhikki multi-purposes uses as melee weapons]
1x Snow Hare Hunting Bow + Quiver of Arrows - A bow and arrow set used by the Snow Hare tribe for hunting the few creatures who live on the Ice Shelves. Strong weapons, if rudimentary and basic.
'Snow Hare' Ice Knife - A Survival blade of Terhikki's tribe, a serrated knife for a wide variety of uses. Its long, extremely hard, blade comes to a triangular point for use in ice-breaking.
'Snow Hare Ice Hook' - Essentially a grappling hook, the Snow Hare Tribe developed this heavy-weight hook to latch onto ice or ships with relative ease [for those who can throw it properly] so as to save oneself from the frigid waters.
Snow Hare climbing gear + Snow Hare Tribal Clothes - Terhikki clings to her old tribal clothing and gear, for one day she may return to the Frozen Sea and need them to not-die in the cold!
Current clothes - Terhikki can't handle the heat of the rest of the seas particularly well, and her current outfit is a rather revealing-yet-secure outfit she wears constantly
Diving Rebreather - Standard Issue
Other
-Terhikki possesses immense physical strength beyond her age, and she claims it comes from having to break the ice with the Frozen Divers- a task she claims to have been a master of. The truth of the matter is that she has always been extremely strong.
-Terhikki possesses a rather extreme 'danger sense' due to growing up in the Frozen Sea, and she's hyperaware of her surroundings. Growing up in a land where one false step meant the Ice falls from under your feet required this skill.
-Terhikki is entirely illiterate. No real books out in the ice shelves.
Terhikki's Theme, until a more fitting song is found
Marea
“Though rivers rarely flow straight, they always find a way to reach the ocean.”
Name
Marea (Wayfinder)
Age
18
Gender
Female
Home Sea
Imperial Sea
Aether Sign
Moon
Aether Abilities
Aether Infusing - Used as a way to safely use her powers, Marea channels Aether into objects and people to give them temporary enhancements such as coating a person in a layer of protective ice or creating blades on shoes for skating.
Frost Lance - A simple attack in the form of creating a frozen projectile and launching it at a target.
Mother Ocean's Grace - By imbuing a living being with Aetheric energy, wounds begin to close and stamina is restored.
Glacial Prism - Used to protect individuals, it entraps them into a thick block of ice until it is melted, broken, or dispelled.
Sculptor's Touch - A general ability that allows for simple, mostly harmless tricks through freezing of water and manipulation of ice.
Frost Lance - A simple attack in the form of creating a frozen projectile and launching it at a target.
Mother Ocean's Grace - By imbuing a living being with Aetheric energy, wounds begin to close and stamina is restored.
Glacial Prism - Used to protect individuals, it entraps them into a thick block of ice until it is melted, broken, or dispelled.
Sculptor's Touch - A general ability that allows for simple, mostly harmless tricks through freezing of water and manipulation of ice.
Personality
Like a still lake, Marea is a calm, collected individual. Though willing to share her thoughts on matters, she keeps problems to herself and maintains a steady composure. While her expression rarely betrays her thoughts, she is nonetheless a caring individual and is more than willing to intervene on behalf of others with the same fervor of more energetic individuals.
Marea tries to find beauty in all hand-made crafts. From a simple dish prepared by another to the labor and resource-intensive Ironclads.
Her favorite food are mussels, having become enamoured with them when they were the first food she had eaten after gaining her freedom. In a way, they remind them of herself with their strong, protective shell.
Marea tries to find beauty in all hand-made crafts. From a simple dish prepared by another to the labor and resource-intensive Ironclads.
Her favorite food are mussels, having become enamoured with them when they were the first food she had eaten after gaining her freedom. In a way, they remind them of herself with their strong, protective shell.
History
Though born in the Imperial Sea, Marea would call it a home only in that she was born there. Her parents were both soldiers for the Empire, raised on its virtue and divine decree that its borders should blanket all of Aruth. Serving together on the same ship, they grew close to one another during their tour until one fateful day in the Frozen Sea, the sky was blanketed in beautiful, green light that seemed to dance and swirl like the ocean their ship coasted along. It was on that night that they united to create a child they would never know.
After their duties were complete, the lovers returned to their homeland to settle down and pursue a life suited to raise a child. However, as the mother's pregenancy developed, she began suffering from increasingly detrimental health as all the energy she once had started to seep away for seemingly no reason. Eventually, they were approached by the Imperial Military not for recruitment, but for the child the mother carried. The mother could be saved, but they needed to act quickly and cut the child out before she was entirely drained of life force. If they agreed, the child would be taken from them, but she would live.
With little choice, they both agreed and the operation. Marea was ripped from her mother's womb and taken away to live a life mandated by the Empire. The many symptoms her mother was exhbiting were investigated, and it was found that Marea had an immensely potent connection to Aether. Their plan was to mold her into a powerful weapon they could use to conquer their rivals with the powerful Aether magic she could wield. For a time, the process went well for the Empire. The child was trained almost daily to wield the Aether, and her prowess with it rapidly grew.
Unfortunately, while excellent trainers, her overseers were poor caretakers. Constantly pushing the child beyond her limits, they had little patience for anything but perfection and progress. Most days, after the sessions were complete, Marea would instantly pass out in her simple bed before being sent back into the grinder. The only times she truly got rest was when she would collide with the very limits of her body and pass out for several days at a time. She hated her life in Galma, trapped within the walls of her facility.
Eventually, Marea's growth began to stagnate. No matter how hard or long they pushed, she simply did not seem to improve. Drastic measures were taken to try and force a breakthrough. The young girl was placed into live combat with an elite officer with the hopes that the stress would cause her to tap into that latent might she carried. They got what they wanted, but not quite how. Marea was no match for the battle-hardened veteran and beaten down over and over again, only to be healed up and sent back in.
She pleaded, begged for them to stop, but each time she was forced back to the arena until finally, she snapped. The stress and desperation forced an explosion of Aether Magic. Ice erupted from Marea and tore the facility apart. The connection it had to the rest of Galma was destroyed, and the entire place was sent sinking deep into the ocean. Comatose and encased within a jagged block of ice, Marea drifted out of the ruined building before being carried off by the tide.
After their duties were complete, the lovers returned to their homeland to settle down and pursue a life suited to raise a child. However, as the mother's pregenancy developed, she began suffering from increasingly detrimental health as all the energy she once had started to seep away for seemingly no reason. Eventually, they were approached by the Imperial Military not for recruitment, but for the child the mother carried. The mother could be saved, but they needed to act quickly and cut the child out before she was entirely drained of life force. If they agreed, the child would be taken from them, but she would live.
With little choice, they both agreed and the operation. Marea was ripped from her mother's womb and taken away to live a life mandated by the Empire. The many symptoms her mother was exhbiting were investigated, and it was found that Marea had an immensely potent connection to Aether. Their plan was to mold her into a powerful weapon they could use to conquer their rivals with the powerful Aether magic she could wield. For a time, the process went well for the Empire. The child was trained almost daily to wield the Aether, and her prowess with it rapidly grew.
Unfortunately, while excellent trainers, her overseers were poor caretakers. Constantly pushing the child beyond her limits, they had little patience for anything but perfection and progress. Most days, after the sessions were complete, Marea would instantly pass out in her simple bed before being sent back into the grinder. The only times she truly got rest was when she would collide with the very limits of her body and pass out for several days at a time. She hated her life in Galma, trapped within the walls of her facility.
Eventually, Marea's growth began to stagnate. No matter how hard or long they pushed, she simply did not seem to improve. Drastic measures were taken to try and force a breakthrough. The young girl was placed into live combat with an elite officer with the hopes that the stress would cause her to tap into that latent might she carried. They got what they wanted, but not quite how. Marea was no match for the battle-hardened veteran and beaten down over and over again, only to be healed up and sent back in.
She pleaded, begged for them to stop, but each time she was forced back to the arena until finally, she snapped. The stress and desperation forced an explosion of Aether Magic. Ice erupted from Marea and tore the facility apart. The connection it had to the rest of Galma was destroyed, and the entire place was sent sinking deep into the ocean. Comatose and encased within a jagged block of ice, Marea drifted out of the ruined building before being carried off by the tide.
A warm light pierced Marea's darkened vision, and her eyes slowly fluttered open.
"...Wh-Where?"
"A child, encased in ice and floating through the sea? Can't say We've fished up something like that before."
As her eyes refocused, the blue-haired girl found herself within a large, wooden building kept lit by a pleasant fire in the center. People were all around her, staring with curious expressions at what had been dragged from the water. Right in front of her, though, was an older man adorned in attire much more decorated than the others. He spoke calmly to the mysterious child.
"I am glad to see you are okay, young one. I do not know where you are from, or why you are here, but I will not turn some lost child away."
The man looked over his shoulder and barked out an order, "Marlowe! Get some food for the girl! Surely, you can at least get that right!"
As a brown haired youth ran off to fulfill the request, Marea's new life began. Though unable to forget her taskmasters, she was free from them. Though he never learned her past, Talu Wayfinder took Marea in as his own and raised her well while encouraging her to live and grow at her own pace.
In this strange, foreign land, she had a place she truly could call home.
"...Wh-Where?"
"A child, encased in ice and floating through the sea? Can't say We've fished up something like that before."
As her eyes refocused, the blue-haired girl found herself within a large, wooden building kept lit by a pleasant fire in the center. People were all around her, staring with curious expressions at what had been dragged from the water. Right in front of her, though, was an older man adorned in attire much more decorated than the others. He spoke calmly to the mysterious child.
"I am glad to see you are okay, young one. I do not know where you are from, or why you are here, but I will not turn some lost child away."
The man looked over his shoulder and barked out an order, "Marlowe! Get some food for the girl! Surely, you can at least get that right!"
As a brown haired youth ran off to fulfill the request, Marea's new life began. Though unable to forget her taskmasters, she was free from them. Though he never learned her past, Talu Wayfinder took Marea in as his own and raised her well while encouraging her to live and grow at her own pace.
In this strange, foreign land, she had a place she truly could call home.
Marea stared at Marlowe, bent over slightly as she used her elbows to keep herself propped up against a window sill. Watching the boy swinging his inherited blade around as he tried to mimick the movements he saw Divers performing. It was clumsy and slow, but at least he didn't accidently send the weapon flying into a tree this time.
A voice broke the hazy, peaceful afternoon and caused the girl to jump, "Marlowe! Have yo-"
Quickly spinning around on her heel, Marea cut off the chief in her usual calm voice, masking the surprise from his sudden outburst, "It's already taken care of. I helped out, so we got it done quickly."
Talu eyed his daughter incredulously for a moment, seeing straight through her lie before giving a long exhale as he decided to let it be. Leaning up against the window, the chieftan joined her in spectating the training.
Eventually, the man's gaze fell back onto the girl as he said, "You shouldn't just do all his duties for him so he can slack off. Marlowe is a man now, and he should start acting like one."
"I suppose so," Marea responded while looking up at her father "but he wants to become like his hero. Helping him reach that dream is just how I want to repay him for finding m-"
A sudden, metallic thud loudly echoed out followed by a pained groan. Both of the Wayfinders snapped their attention out the window, spotting Marlowe laying on the ground with a bright red mark forming on his forehead and his blade on the ground next to him.
They both stared at the young adult for a few seconds before they both just shook their heads. Marea started moving to go heal the minor injury before she felt her father's hand rest on her shoulder, stopping her.
"Take care of the lad. We don't need that blade delivered here again. I owe his mother that much."
The girl had a moment of pause, mulling over her caretaker's words, before giving him a nod and hurrying off to go heal that fresh bruise.
A voice broke the hazy, peaceful afternoon and caused the girl to jump, "Marlowe! Have yo-"
Quickly spinning around on her heel, Marea cut off the chief in her usual calm voice, masking the surprise from his sudden outburst, "It's already taken care of. I helped out, so we got it done quickly."
Talu eyed his daughter incredulously for a moment, seeing straight through her lie before giving a long exhale as he decided to let it be. Leaning up against the window, the chieftan joined her in spectating the training.
Eventually, the man's gaze fell back onto the girl as he said, "You shouldn't just do all his duties for him so he can slack off. Marlowe is a man now, and he should start acting like one."
"I suppose so," Marea responded while looking up at her father "but he wants to become like his hero. Helping him reach that dream is just how I want to repay him for finding m-"
A sudden, metallic thud loudly echoed out followed by a pained groan. Both of the Wayfinders snapped their attention out the window, spotting Marlowe laying on the ground with a bright red mark forming on his forehead and his blade on the ground next to him.
They both stared at the young adult for a few seconds before they both just shook their heads. Marea started moving to go heal the minor injury before she felt her father's hand rest on her shoulder, stopping her.
"Take care of the lad. We don't need that blade delivered here again. I owe his mother that much."
The girl had a moment of pause, mulling over her caretaker's words, before giving him a nod and hurrying off to go heal that fresh bruise.
Gear
Clothing - Of higher quality than most members of the Free Islands, they are befitting of a chieftan's child, even if adopted.
AGenericUser
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Eliza Rebargo
"To leave a mystery unsolved is a true crime - and I'm no criminal!"
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Home Sea: Sea of Stars
Aether Sign: Sun - Lightning Focus
Aether Abilities:
Magnetization: An Aether ability making use of electromagnetic fields. Eliza enchants her shield to have the properties of an electromagnetic field - then enchants her blade with electricity. Upon hitting a target, they will become magnetized, being drawn to the shield at a slow pace. Utilizing this ability allows Eliza to take an enemy's attention - however, it does use her aether quickly, so she must use it sparingly. In order to fully utilize this ability, a metallic weapon and shield are required.
Energy Pulse: By slashing her blade against the ground, Eliza can send a small spark of electricity forwards. This spark travels on the ground, and has a low range - roughly six metres. It's not very potent, but it allows her to do at least some damage from range.
Energy Pulse: By slashing her blade against the ground, Eliza can send a small spark of electricity forwards. This spark travels on the ground, and has a low range - roughly six metres. It's not very potent, but it allows her to do at least some damage from range.
Motivation: Eliza, as a lover of things from the past, wants to discover all she can about the world's history - along with making a name for herself.
Personality: Eliza can be summarized as a fun-loving tomboy who'd pursue her goals to the end of time, though she tends to doubt herself - even if she does come off as a little careless.
A young lady with almost insatiable curiosity - at least, regarding the world and its history. Eliza takes an interest in ancient objects like relics and talismans, and enjoys analyzing what purpose they may have had in the past. This interest in the past stems from her family's influence, who are historians themselves. Thanks to this, Eliza has a deep respect for her parents. However, with this in mind, she also feels as if she has high standards to live up to, and while she'd like to say she's definitely capable of it - beneath the surface, doubt regarding this lingers...
Another thing Eliza particularly enjoys are thrills, as she's a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Heading out into danger is an exhilarating experience for her that well and truly gets the blood pumping, for better - or for worse. However, she's not willing to just throw herself into certain death, as she knows better than that... Similarly, she also enjoys trying out new things around the world, and rarely dismisses something as pointless... unless she's tried it already.
To other people, Eliza comes off as excitable and jovial, especially around those she considers friends. However, she has trouble making criticisms of anyone she's acquainted with - as she doesn't want to offend them. She's the type of person to put others over herself, as she desperately wants them to like her. However, to people she doesn't particularly get along with - or sees as a threat, she becomes stand-offish and snappy, her words having far more of a venom to them.
Eliza's main flaw relates to Pride. She believes she's great at what she does, and believes that she can do anything... so, failing to do something hits her hard. It may take her a while to regain her groove after such a happening. Another weakness of Eliza's is that she's not particularly intelligent, outside of history and has trouble explaining things... outside of history, of course. She's rather self-conscious about her intellect and hates being wrong - which can often irritate her. Essentially, she believes she knows more than she actually does.
Along with that, Eliza's primary fear is that of being forgotten, whether that be short-term - such as being left out of something, or long-term. Working with ancient things from several hundreds of years back in the past made her realize just how easily something can be forgotten... and so, she wants her name, and the Rebargo family name to live on as long as they possibly can... as those who located the ancient city of Gaea.
History:
"I'll become a Diver, hell or high water. Then, I'll finally find Gaea!"
Eliza was born in the Sea of Stars, into a family of historians and divers - who sought to unveil whatever secrets the seas of Aluth held... whether that history be above the waters, or within the deep blue below. Yet, the one mystery that nagged away at them was the lost city Gaea... though, despite all the effort they placed into locating this ancient civilization, they never found the city. But a flame still burns for the Rebargo family's goal to locate Gaea... and that flame is Eliza Rebargo, a self-professed Seeker of Gaia.
Eliza is the oldest daughter of three siblings, herself included - whose early life was positively filled with reading tales of adventurers who headed off, exploring the lands and uncovering all manner of things lost to time. Following in the footsteps of her parents, Eliza aspired to become a Diver - her ultimate goal to do what the rest of her family couldn't, and that was to find the lost city of Gaea. No matter what anybody said, Eliza was set on her path. From the age of twelve, she began to train herself in various skills, for when she became a Diver. She would often practice swimming out in the Sea of Stars - and would often practice using various weapons on practice dummies. She particularly enjoyed utilizing a shield - blocking attacks from the enemy would prove useful in combat.
Eliza was capable of utilizing Aether, though her capabilities are average at best - however, even still, she enrolled into the Aetherium, in hopes of becoming able to utilize Aether proficiently. While she wasn't the best student by any means - prone to tuning out when bored, particularly in lectures... but eventually, she managed to control Aether at an adequate level. And from there, only one more step remained... actually becoming a Diver. By now, Eliza was twenty years old, and she felt she was definitely capable of becoming a diver, thanks to all her training. So, she waved farewell to her parents, promising them that she'd definitely become a Diver - and that she'd 'find Gaea, no sweat!' When she arrived at the Sea of Ancients, Eliza headed to the Diver's Guild almost immediately - and signed herself up just as fast, and found that she had what it took.
Being a Diver proved to be quite fun for Eliza... and not only that, but it felt like finding Gaea was closer than it ever had been before, though she was still a rookie diver. From there, Eliza began to take up more and more Diver missions, though two years later - she chose to head to the Southern Seas, for a little time off - and to search for any artifacts that may have gone unfound.
"Eliza... I've heard that you've been trying to become a diver." A tall, bespectacled orange-haired man spoke with a clear voice. "However, please... do not feel as if you are forced to become a diver. Remember - this is your life. It's not anyone else's to steer however they choose."
With a shake of her head, Eliza quickly refuted the man's words. "Dad...! I don't feel forced to become a diver at all. It's all a hundred percent of my own will, and nothing less!" Eliza responded. "I've wanted to be a diver since I was a kid, and I didn't - and won't - let anything stop me. Those're the facts, dad."
Adjusting his glasses, Eliza's father, known as Lepon chuckled. "Why, it's good to see that you're so passionate regarding diving... even through all these years. If the years weren't catching up with me, I'd still be scouring the seas, for-"
"Gaia!" Eliza finished her father's sentence enthusiastically. "The ancient capital of mankind, now lost underneath the waves of Aruth!" The very thought of the city enthralled Eliza. A presumably prosperous city from the past, now fallen to the sands - or rather, seas of time.
Once more, Lepon chuckled, then nodded proudly. "I've taught you well, I see." He pointed his finger, and waggled it back and forth. This was one of the characteristics of Eliza's father.
"Well, yeah! You guys - I mean, you and Mum did a great job raising me and all. Without you two, I don't think I'd have realized how cool the world's history is. It kinda... speaks to me, I guess you could say?" Eliza tried to explain. "Anyways... there's just something really fascinating about things left from older times, right Dad?"
"You know fully well what my answer to that question is, Eliza. I don't think I need to answer it, but," Her father added with a kindly smile smile. "You're completely correct. Even things that others might dismiss as minor are major to us. For instance - this coin, from a civilization long gone. Some may pass it off as junk, yet to me? It's nothing short of an artifact." Lepon reached into his pockets gently, and before long, his hand resurfaced, now with a coin that well and truly seemed ancient. Any sign of a shine was long gone. Lepon handed this to Eliza, whose eyes searched the coin like a hawk. Foreign patterns marked the coin, and it was rather rusted, to say the least... but that was to be expected of a coin in the sea.
"I could be wrong, but... I've never seen a coin like this! Is it from an ancient civilization... Maybe it's from Gaea?!" Her tone was one of excitement as she uttered this, still eying the coin for any hints to its origin. It was well and truly unlike any coin she'd ever seen.
"We never found that out." Lepon explained. "It's certainly a possibility that it came from Gaea, though. It's unlike any other coin, in terms of patterns that I've ever seen. I did some background research, too, and it doesn't seem to have been created by any of the Seas, either... so, I am almost certain that it is a relic from the old world."
"I wonder what that old world was like. I bet it wasn't as watery, for one. But really... what was it like? What was Gaea like?" Eliza spoke. "It's almost incredible to think that however many years of history the old world had, it was all wiped out by the mother sea... yet some of it still remains, deep in the depths of the ocean. It really makes me want to find everything I can from those times, and figure out everything I can about them."
"Eliza,' Lepon addressed abruptly. "I want you to keep that coin."
"Huh?"
Lepon's kindly smile returned, as he met Eliza's eyes. "Consider it a good luck charm... I sure did, back in my diving years. It's only fitting that the next diver of the Rebargo family carries it with them, too. But, if I let you keep that coin, I want you to make a promise. I want you to solve the mystery behind that coin - I want you to discover what I couldn't, as a Diver. So, do you accept?"
"Y-you want me to do what you couldn't...?" Eliza questioned. "That sounds... kinda impossible, if you couldn't manage it, dad..."
"No-"
"Shut it, dad! I'm still talking! Geez." Eliza retorted with a sly grin. "Sure, it might seem impossible, but I know that there's a chance, no matter how small it is, that I could discover both the truth behind this coin... and Gaea!"
Lepon nodded, then hugged his daughter. "Eliza... I'm so proud of you. Now get out there, and show the world who's boss! Leave no mystery undiscovered!"
"To leave a mystery unsolved is a true crime... and I'm no criminal!" Eliza uttered with a serious, determined tone... before cracking up into laughter. "That... sounded lame, didn't it, dad?"
"It did... but it certainly had some charm to it..."
With a shake of her head, Eliza quickly refuted the man's words. "Dad...! I don't feel forced to become a diver at all. It's all a hundred percent of my own will, and nothing less!" Eliza responded. "I've wanted to be a diver since I was a kid, and I didn't - and won't - let anything stop me. Those're the facts, dad."
Adjusting his glasses, Eliza's father, known as Lepon chuckled. "Why, it's good to see that you're so passionate regarding diving... even through all these years. If the years weren't catching up with me, I'd still be scouring the seas, for-"
"Gaia!" Eliza finished her father's sentence enthusiastically. "The ancient capital of mankind, now lost underneath the waves of Aruth!" The very thought of the city enthralled Eliza. A presumably prosperous city from the past, now fallen to the sands - or rather, seas of time.
Once more, Lepon chuckled, then nodded proudly. "I've taught you well, I see." He pointed his finger, and waggled it back and forth. This was one of the characteristics of Eliza's father.
"Well, yeah! You guys - I mean, you and Mum did a great job raising me and all. Without you two, I don't think I'd have realized how cool the world's history is. It kinda... speaks to me, I guess you could say?" Eliza tried to explain. "Anyways... there's just something really fascinating about things left from older times, right Dad?"
"You know fully well what my answer to that question is, Eliza. I don't think I need to answer it, but," Her father added with a kindly smile smile. "You're completely correct. Even things that others might dismiss as minor are major to us. For instance - this coin, from a civilization long gone. Some may pass it off as junk, yet to me? It's nothing short of an artifact." Lepon reached into his pockets gently, and before long, his hand resurfaced, now with a coin that well and truly seemed ancient. Any sign of a shine was long gone. Lepon handed this to Eliza, whose eyes searched the coin like a hawk. Foreign patterns marked the coin, and it was rather rusted, to say the least... but that was to be expected of a coin in the sea.
"I could be wrong, but... I've never seen a coin like this! Is it from an ancient civilization... Maybe it's from Gaea?!" Her tone was one of excitement as she uttered this, still eying the coin for any hints to its origin. It was well and truly unlike any coin she'd ever seen.
"We never found that out." Lepon explained. "It's certainly a possibility that it came from Gaea, though. It's unlike any other coin, in terms of patterns that I've ever seen. I did some background research, too, and it doesn't seem to have been created by any of the Seas, either... so, I am almost certain that it is a relic from the old world."
"I wonder what that old world was like. I bet it wasn't as watery, for one. But really... what was it like? What was Gaea like?" Eliza spoke. "It's almost incredible to think that however many years of history the old world had, it was all wiped out by the mother sea... yet some of it still remains, deep in the depths of the ocean. It really makes me want to find everything I can from those times, and figure out everything I can about them."
"Eliza,' Lepon addressed abruptly. "I want you to keep that coin."
"Huh?"
Lepon's kindly smile returned, as he met Eliza's eyes. "Consider it a good luck charm... I sure did, back in my diving years. It's only fitting that the next diver of the Rebargo family carries it with them, too. But, if I let you keep that coin, I want you to make a promise. I want you to solve the mystery behind that coin - I want you to discover what I couldn't, as a Diver. So, do you accept?"
"Y-you want me to do what you couldn't...?" Eliza questioned. "That sounds... kinda impossible, if you couldn't manage it, dad..."
"No-"
"Shut it, dad! I'm still talking! Geez." Eliza retorted with a sly grin. "Sure, it might seem impossible, but I know that there's a chance, no matter how small it is, that I could discover both the truth behind this coin... and Gaea!"
Lepon nodded, then hugged his daughter. "Eliza... I'm so proud of you. Now get out there, and show the world who's boss! Leave no mystery undiscovered!"
"To leave a mystery unsolved is a true crime... and I'm no criminal!" Eliza uttered with a serious, determined tone... before cracking up into laughter. "That... sounded lame, didn't it, dad?"
"It did... but it certainly had some charm to it..."
Gear: Currently, Eliza is equipped with a wooden sword - and a metal shield, both of which are key to using her Aether abilities. Eliza thinks they'll do. Along with that, she carries around a necklace with a single, rusted coin attached to it. The origins of the coin are unknown, though Eliza seeks to solve the mystery behind it.
Other: In terms of combat, Eliza's style is more or less to draw an enemy's attention and block their attacks with her shield. Like, I guess you could call her a tank...? Maybe? She's more effective with physical attacks than Aether, at the very least.
She's reliant on having metallic weaponry equipped, if she wants to utilize her abilities.
SunsetWanderer woke moralist
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
⚓ N A M E
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Evander Whitemane
⚓ A G E
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
29
⚓ G E N D E R
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Male
⚓ H O M E S E A
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
The Frozen Sea
⚓ A E T H E R S I G N
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Moon Aether
⚓ A E T H E R A B I L I T I E S
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
To harness the natural aether and power of the Mother Ocean and transfer that into aether-powered weaponry or ship engines is a useful skill indeed, but one notoriously hard to master. The Whitemane Clan of Windkeep have a long dynasty of aether-forgers, renowned for their craftsmanship and skill in utilizing their connections to the oceans, and Evander is no exception. Though not immediately useful in combat, he can create works of both beauty and power through his connection to the Moon and the aether of Mother Ocean when given appropriate time. More than anything else, it speaks to the understanding and respect held by Evander to the power of aether.
Additionally, this skill allows Evander to repair aether weaponry and aether engines.
By shutting his eyes, and closing himself off to the world around him, Evander can 'connect' to the waves of the oceans beneath his feet. In doing this, he gains a sensory knowledge of what lays around the vessel - meaning he can feel threat should danger be laying in wait, for example.
This ability also allows Evander to 'overclock' the aether engine within a vessel, allowing it to push the ship faster or to strengthen the magical barriers protecting it from assault. This is a particularly demanding task, however, and one reserved for life or death situations. In most cases of the application for this ability - particularly when used to boost a magical barrier - it has resulted in the user falling comatose.
⚓ P E R S O N A L I T Y
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Evander has always had something of a solitary personality. Somebody preferring to act a lone wolf rather than work in a pack is certainly a rarity amongst the populace of the Frozen Sea, where the harsh conditions and monstrous beasts often demands the locals work together to survive. For Evander, this speaks to his rejection of the world around him. The history of his family is not a pleasant one, and indeed, the Whitemane name is something of a legend among the inhabitants of the frozen sea. A sort-of boogeyman, a warning to children that ‘the whitemanes will get them’ should they misbehave. Clearly, such a name carries a lot of baggage, and the preconceptions still held about his family have morphed Evander into the man he is today.
He chooses to embrace this reputation, acting aloof and brash. He has already been rejected by most of society - what is there to lose from acting oneself? Yet while Evander would say that he is being himself, this exterior is something of a constructed barrier. A means of shielding himself from the scorn and disdain of society.
Beneath this, he has a kind-heart and a well-meaning soul. Few have gotten so close, however, and with the name Whitemane belonging permanently to Evander, it is unlikely many more ever shall.
⚓ H I S T O R Y
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
“Once powerful - once great - there was never a better example of the corruption that power can bring upon our souls, than the Clan Whitemane.”- Albright Featherwind, These Chilled Winds: A History of the Frozen Sea, 1589AF
“The Whitemane Clan claims to trace back their descendants over a thousand years, to the very first Whitemane, the great Chief Halmar, who is said to have lived sometime between 430-500AF. Though what records remain from such an ancient time are understandably few, each new generation of the Whitemane Clan passes down the stories and tales of the old hero, which have likely evolved considerably from their first telling.
As any Whitemane would currently tell it, the great Halmar Whitemane was a man of considerable power, through a strong connection to the Aether of the Moon. It was said he was proof that supreme deities did indeed exist, for no man could hold such wisdom and power through any natural means (a complimentary exaggeration, no doubt). They tell tales of Halmar slaying great beasts of the ocean and frozen wastes, and protecting his homeland from early incursions of ships from the Imperial Sea. Indeed, he established himself as a natural-born leader throughout the Frozen Seas, and founded the castle of Whitekeep, the ancestral home of the Whitemane Clan. Now nothing more than broken stone and ruined halls, it was once a mighty castle that sat atop a glacier, said to be seen from miles on all sides.
Yet the true talents of Halmar Whitemane, it is said, lay within Aether Forging. Creating works of both beauty and power, the great Halmar was unrivalled in his craft. He forged ‘Aetherius’, an aether longsword of great splendour that would go on to become the heirloom of the Whitemane Clan, sitting proudly in their great hall at Whitekeep. He commissioned works for the rich and mighty in not only the frozen sea, but elsewhere also, with the nobility of the Imperial Sea being particularly drawn to the foreign craftsman. Great wealth was acquired, and Halmar not only expanded Whitekeep, but took an interest in the developing town of Windkeep also. Windkeep, at the time, was a developing trading city that mined aetherite as a source of income, and the shrewd Halmar knew its growth presented an opportunity. Buying property, the seeds of the Whitemane’s influence within Windkeep were sewn.
Most of the stories surrounding Halmar are mere hearsay, and his greatness is no doubt exaggerated significantly. Whether he was truly as magnificent as the stories say, none will know, but there was no questioning he was a skilled aether craftsman. Importantly, this was a skill he passed down to his children, and his children to their own. This is how the family built their wealth, and their power. Great artisans of aether, moulding and sculpting weapons and engines for divers seeking to pursue fame and riches, the Whitemane’s profiting from their ambition.
Over the years, the family became accustomed to their wealth and luxury. They abandoned the old halls of Whitekeep, proving far too difficult to maintain and keep warm, and instead moved permanently to their estate within the now-grown trading city of Windkeep. The family became something resembling more the Imperial Nobility under the Starwind monarchy than a family of crafters from the Frozen Sea, and as generation after generation was born into increasing wealth and stories of their ancestors greatness, the Whitemane Clan developed feelings of superiority and entitlement. They lost touch with their fellow inhabitants of the Frozen Sea, typically hardy folk with little use for great wealth, and became vain creatures huddled around their roaring fires, shielded from the biting colds of the frozen sea.
Though the city of Windkeep has always proudly declared to be independent of any monarchy similar to that found in the Imperial Sea, it was for a time ruled in all but name by the Whitemane Clan. Their wealth afforded them influence and sway over the direction the city took, and the family revelled within the power they had achieved. For hundreds of years, the family remained one of the most powerful and well-known throughout the frozen sea, fuelled entirely by their skill of mastering aetherite and their connection to the Sun and Moon to create aether-infused weaponry and ship-engines.
It was in the year 1444AF, however, that the Whitemane Clan began their fall from grace. Having been secretly in chaos for several decades after increasing numbers of the family were born ‘without a sign’, and those being born under the Sun or Moon having seemingly weakened connections to aether, the family was in a state of panic. For near fifty years their output of aether-infused goods for divers and the rich alike had decreased, and their wealth was deteriorating rapidly as they continued to spend as lavishly as they once had to keep up appearances. Facing the prospect of having to sell their estate, and financial ruin, the vain family did not question the mysterious stranger that offered them salvation.
A man of unknown origin and name, now-known to belong to the cult of the ‘Black Hand’, approached the family with an offer of salvation. How exactly this deal came to be is unknown, and indeed it is even uncertain how exactly this cult came to be aware of the dire situation the family found itself in, but nonetheless, an offer of membership was made.
As we today are aware, this was a dark and evil organisation indeed that operated beneath the very fabric of society within the frozen seas. Their crimes many, and all depraved in equal measure, it was their act of ritual sacrifice alongside the Whitemane Clan that gained them notoriety across the seas. It was uncovered that, in an effort to restore their connection to the aether, the leaders of the Whitemane household had resorted to sacrificing, and in some documented cases, even devouring individuals known to have ‘strong aether connections’. They were misguided in their belief that this would, in some twisted manner, restore their once-powerful connection to aether and allow them to escape destitution.
The family would face much more than destitution however, for in the last days of 1461AF, their horrid crimes were discovered in what would become one of the largest scandals in the history of the frozen sea. To have a family of leaders act so heinously was shocking indeed, and retribution was swift. Property and wealth was confiscated, leaders were imprisoned, and ‘mob justice’ often brought about its own revenge on the streets of Windkeep.
For the frozen sea, their individualism was reinforced. The perils of dynastic leadership exposed and their natural suspicion of authority was vindicated in the strongest terms.
There has never quite been a family like the Whitemane’s, and the name continues to hold infamy, certainly within the Frozen Sea. Whether there are any wretched members of the dynasty left, I myself find this hard to believe.”
- Albright Featherwind on the various histories and accounts of Clan Whitemane in his historical book, These Chilled Winds: A History of the Frozen Sea, published 1589AF.
Born during a typically cold night under the sign of the Moon, and amongst the glaciers of the frozen sea, Evander Greyhold, as he was named, was raised in a small community on an otherwise derelict ice-cap. Quite different from the lives of his forefathers some two hundred years ago, Evander learned quickly to fend for himself. In a land where one mistake can lead to your grisly death at the hands of a beast of the snows, Evander felt comfortable relying as little on others as possible. He wanted to be sure that his fate was in his own hands, and should he meet his end, it would be at the very least on his own terms. Surprisingly mature thoughts for a child, certainly, but life in the frozen sea allows for little else.
The village in which Evander was raised had a population of no more than thirty or so people, and was entirely self-sufficient. Everybody knew everybody, and Evander’s father was the local smith. He repaired everything from fishing rods, to hunting spears, to boat-hulls for the local fishermen. On the rarer occasions, he would entertain divers from foreign seas, on the hunt for some ancient relic or city. It was in his dealings with these divers that he could truly fulfill his potential, repairing works of aether-infused weaponry and upgrading ship-engines for a very agreeable sum.
When he grew old enough to help around the settlement, Evander opted to aid the fishermen as they scoured the local waters for prey. While they dove under, Evander was tasked with watching the vessel. A simple enough job, it nonetheless kept him busy, and it wasn’t long until he naturally grew into the role of a sailor - helping to navigate the reasonably calm waters around the glacier itself. Most of his time, however, was in fact spent helping his father make his repairs. His father often spoke of the importance in Evander learning the skill - which had been passed down for generations. These experiences early in his childhood would hold him in good stead for his later development as a helmsman, and engineer.
Something that had always intrigued Evander was the prices his father set for repairs, especially the particularly generous prices for repairing the more intricate and aether-infused works. Though he had been raised on a quiet ice-cap, several trips to the port city of Windkeep had taught him, if nothing else, that men of even less skill to his father could make a killing. Far, far more than his father ever sought to earn. When confronted on the matter, Evander would only ever receive a reply that more-or-less always amounted to “Happiness is more important than wealth”. Sentimental talk from an old man, he thought.
By his sixteenth birthday, Evander was already confident in his skill as a craftsman, and he knew he could make something of himself in the city of Windkeep. It was a hub of activity for divers travelling to and from the region, and his services repairing their aether gear would allow him to settle there in no time. So it was, that despite considerable urging from his father, Evander made the journey to Windkeep when the next diver passed through en-route.
For near two years he remained in Windkeep, developing the skill taught to him by his father, and making a respectable sum of money. He even managed to purchase some modest accommodation, and while it was only a few rooms, it was his. Life seemed destined to improve, and the motives behind his father's self-imposed exile why his father continued to remain a mystery to Evander. The discovery of these motives would come not long after his twentieth birthday.
Having kept in regular correspondence with his father, updating him on his successes within Windkeep, Evander received a letter that appeared much like any other. As Evander tore open the letter and began to read it, however, his life changed before his very eyes. Telling him of the history of the Whitemane Clan, a name Evander was already familiar with through folklore, and of Evander’s direct descent through the family was nothing less than devastating. How does anybody react to the news they are from a cursed and despised bloodline? Disgust, guilt, anger at his father, and a myriad of other emotions ran through him for several days. His mood often changed from despair, to anger, to despair. Resolving to finally confront his father over the tale, he returned to his home.
He found it was too late, however, with the letter evidently being sent not long before his passing. Filled with rage, confusion, feelings of betrayal and even disgust at his own blood - he cursed the memory of his father. He considered the man selfish. Selfish for keeping the truth hidden for so long, selfish for ruining his chance of success in life, and selfish for waiting until he was not long for the present world to do so.
These feelings of anger and betrayal were soon replaced by the overriding sensation of guilt, however. Was his strong connection to the aether actually a result of the sacrifices of innocents? Whatever the answer, Evander condemned himself and rejected his powers over the aether within the oceans. Unable to bring himself to use them, he had now found himself thrust on an entirely different path in life in the space of only a few days. All because of one letter.
He caught the next vessel passing by his home on the glacier, which was headed for the capital of the Imperial Sea. Here, he found several odd-jobs aiding on cargo ships and working in several dockyards to pass the days. Yet when he, alone one evening, recalled the divers that so often frequented Windkeep, Evander knew he had the answer. It was true, he had little combat experience outside of the frozen sea, but if his life was to come to an honourable end as a Diver, so be it.
With that, eight years ago, Evander joined the Divers Guild under his true name, Evander Whitemane. Since then, he has become an accomplished helmsman and is talented in guiding vessels through perilous waters and against beasts from the deeps.
The village in which Evander was raised had a population of no more than thirty or so people, and was entirely self-sufficient. Everybody knew everybody, and Evander’s father was the local smith. He repaired everything from fishing rods, to hunting spears, to boat-hulls for the local fishermen. On the rarer occasions, he would entertain divers from foreign seas, on the hunt for some ancient relic or city. It was in his dealings with these divers that he could truly fulfill his potential, repairing works of aether-infused weaponry and upgrading ship-engines for a very agreeable sum.
When he grew old enough to help around the settlement, Evander opted to aid the fishermen as they scoured the local waters for prey. While they dove under, Evander was tasked with watching the vessel. A simple enough job, it nonetheless kept him busy, and it wasn’t long until he naturally grew into the role of a sailor - helping to navigate the reasonably calm waters around the glacier itself. Most of his time, however, was in fact spent helping his father make his repairs. His father often spoke of the importance in Evander learning the skill - which had been passed down for generations. These experiences early in his childhood would hold him in good stead for his later development as a helmsman, and engineer.
Something that had always intrigued Evander was the prices his father set for repairs, especially the particularly generous prices for repairing the more intricate and aether-infused works. Though he had been raised on a quiet ice-cap, several trips to the port city of Windkeep had taught him, if nothing else, that men of even less skill to his father could make a killing. Far, far more than his father ever sought to earn. When confronted on the matter, Evander would only ever receive a reply that more-or-less always amounted to “Happiness is more important than wealth”. Sentimental talk from an old man, he thought.
By his sixteenth birthday, Evander was already confident in his skill as a craftsman, and he knew he could make something of himself in the city of Windkeep. It was a hub of activity for divers travelling to and from the region, and his services repairing their aether gear would allow him to settle there in no time. So it was, that despite considerable urging from his father, Evander made the journey to Windkeep when the next diver passed through en-route.
For near two years he remained in Windkeep, developing the skill taught to him by his father, and making a respectable sum of money. He even managed to purchase some modest accommodation, and while it was only a few rooms, it was his. Life seemed destined to improve, and the motives behind his father's self-imposed exile why his father continued to remain a mystery to Evander. The discovery of these motives would come not long after his twentieth birthday.
Having kept in regular correspondence with his father, updating him on his successes within Windkeep, Evander received a letter that appeared much like any other. As Evander tore open the letter and began to read it, however, his life changed before his very eyes. Telling him of the history of the Whitemane Clan, a name Evander was already familiar with through folklore, and of Evander’s direct descent through the family was nothing less than devastating. How does anybody react to the news they are from a cursed and despised bloodline? Disgust, guilt, anger at his father, and a myriad of other emotions ran through him for several days. His mood often changed from despair, to anger, to despair. Resolving to finally confront his father over the tale, he returned to his home.
He found it was too late, however, with the letter evidently being sent not long before his passing. Filled with rage, confusion, feelings of betrayal and even disgust at his own blood - he cursed the memory of his father. He considered the man selfish. Selfish for keeping the truth hidden for so long, selfish for ruining his chance of success in life, and selfish for waiting until he was not long for the present world to do so.
These feelings of anger and betrayal were soon replaced by the overriding sensation of guilt, however. Was his strong connection to the aether actually a result of the sacrifices of innocents? Whatever the answer, Evander condemned himself and rejected his powers over the aether within the oceans. Unable to bring himself to use them, he had now found himself thrust on an entirely different path in life in the space of only a few days. All because of one letter.
He caught the next vessel passing by his home on the glacier, which was headed for the capital of the Imperial Sea. Here, he found several odd-jobs aiding on cargo ships and working in several dockyards to pass the days. Yet when he, alone one evening, recalled the divers that so often frequented Windkeep, Evander knew he had the answer. It was true, he had little combat experience outside of the frozen sea, but if his life was to come to an honourable end as a Diver, so be it.
With that, eight years ago, Evander joined the Divers Guild under his true name, Evander Whitemane. Since then, he has become an accomplished helmsman and is talented in guiding vessels through perilous waters and against beasts from the deeps.
⚓ G E A R
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
⎈ Compass
⎈ Rebreather
⎈ Clothing typical of a Frozen Sea inhabitant. Heavy furs, cloaks, etc...
⎈ A letter from his father.
⚓ O T H E R N O T E S
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
⎈ A talented helmsman, Evander can guide a ship through harsh waters and powerful storms.
⎈ Being a member of the Divers Guild, he owns a rebreather. His talents, however, truly lie above the oceans on the vessels themselves, guiding the Divers from task to task. When underwater on an expedition, his skill as an engineer has proven useful on more than one occasion, whether it be dismantling an ancient lock - or deciphering lost manuscripts detailing the industrial technologies of old.
1 Guest
viewing this page
© 2007-2024